


Coming Home

by Gwaelinn



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwaelinn/pseuds/Gwaelinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*COMPLETE*  Elrond is sailing West, but is he really coming home?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Journey West

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: Inwë Sáralondë & Curiouswombat—Thank you so much! Any remaining errors are mine.  
> Author’s notes:  
> *In my version of Tolkien’s world, the Valar are not married to each other.  
> *Reborn vs. Remade: I view reborn to imply a sort of reincarnation, born to new parents, memories of their old life hidden. Remade implies elves are put into a recreation of their old body as it was at the time of their death…memories intact…my preferred method.
> 
> *Written for Ardor in August exchange…prompts: Set in Valinor, if possible. Seeing the Fëanoreans would be interesting, as long as they aren't Crazy-Evil-Fëanoreans(TM). If they're in there, sympathetic portrayals, please. Other than that, a river, someone sketching and a happy ending please. ^_^
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was over…finally. After millennia of wars and fragile peace, it was finally over. The Ring was unmade; its master destroyed. He was finally free to sail West. Oddly though, now that his service to Arda was complete, Elrond was not so sure he wanted to leave his home. After all, what awaited him? Nothing and no one. Unlike his companions, he was not returning home or finally being reunited with his family. He and his wife dissolved their union before she sailed; Celebrían’s soul mate had sailed with her. Elrond’s father sailed the sky, his mother was a bird more often than not and clearly had no desire to be a mother as she had abandoned her children to whatever fate the Fëanoreans chose. His brother was long dead; his daughter would die, too. His sons would one day follow him to the West, but not until their sister passed and they completed Elrond’s final request, which could keep them in Arda years after Arwen and Elessar died. The elf lord sighed. Perhaps he should have stayed in Arda and sailed with the twins. Ah well, too late now. The great ship had been at sea for 14 days now. The world that was Arda was fading into the mist as the ship passed beyond the veil of time and space, the place of shade and shadow between realms.

 

Elrond put on a happy face, or at least what could be considered happy for him. So long had he carried the weight of Vilya and the doom of his daughter that few could say they remembered Elrond truly relaxed and happy. It was easy for him to feign happiness and excitement. He listened to Galadriel chat merrily with the senior Mr. Baggins, while Mithrandir answered the quiet questions asked by Frodo. Suddenly Elrond felt guilty. Who was he to wallow in misery about having no one waiting for him on the White Shores? These two little hobbits had even less, knew even less, yet their eyes held nothing but innocent wonder. He did have distant kin who surely would welcome him, offer him a place to stay. Bilbo and Frodo had only each other. ‘But that is just it,’ a little voice whispered, ‘they have each other. Just like Glorfindel and Erestor, and Lindir and Orophin.’ Elrond silenced the voice with a scowl.

 

“Why such a dark countenance?” Galadriel interrupted his thoughts. “Soon we will be home.”

 

Elrond smiled as best he could, melancholy clouding his eyes. Home? Not his home. His home was now as far away as a dream. “Forgive me,” he replied softly, “I miss the children.”

 

Galadriel gave his forearm a pat that held little warmth or comfort, then quickly moved on to talk to Orophin. While there had been mutual respect between the two, Elrond and Galadriel were never close. Their relationship, and the resulting marriage with Celebrían, had been purely politics. Elrond turned back to the sea, his eyes and mind searching a distant horizon.


	2. Family Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who says blood is thicker than water? Elrond realizes what really make a family a family.  
> ~~~~~~~~~

As Elrond disembarked, he felt like an elfling again – unsure, alone, fearful. He walked down the gangplank with as much calm as he could muster and plastered a serene smile on his face. He spotted his former wife moving through the crowd in his direction, but after a quick hug and well wishes, she moved on to embrace her mother. The two chattered like birds as Elrond slowly moved on. 

 

He looked at those gathered, thinking perhaps his former king, a distant cousin, would greet him, but Gil-galad was nowhere to be seen. The elf lord’s shoulders slumped. More than ever he wished he had stayed in Arda. Elrond looked about for Mithrandir and the hobbits, but already the wizard’s tall hat could be seen moving off towards a wooded path. Looking about and wishing to leave the docks, Elrond moved purposefully toward the small seaside town. There had to be something like an inn that he could stay at until he figured out what to do. The things he brought from Rivendell would be kept on the ship until he had a place to take them so that was not a concern. All he carried with him now were two packs. 

 

The crowd began to thin and none noticed the once great lord of Rivendell--no one that is except a tall elf staying back from the rest. He had been watching the half-elf since Elrond came ashore. Sorrowful eyes watched as Elrond looked for a friendly face, a welcoming embrace, a bit of family. 

 

Elrond soon came to a small inn. He stood before the entrance, uncertain. He squared his shoulders and commanded the tears that threatened to fall to stop. Just before he moved up the front steps, a soft voice stopped him.

 

“Would you not prefer to stay with family?”

 

Elrond did not turn but answered flatly, “I have no family here.”

 

“Perhaps not by birth or marriage, but you will always be welcome in my home.”

 

At this Elrond turned to face the speaker. His eyes grew wide as he looked upon a face he never thought to see again. Just a few feet away stood the only elf that could make Glorfindel seem small. Elrond looked at rich mahogany hair and bright green eyes; the former Lord of Rivendell was speechless and stood gaping. The silence seemed to last for hours. Then, without warning, Elrond launched himself at the other elf. Maedhros caught the younger elf in a tight embrace.

 

“Aye penneth, I have missed you,” Maedhros whispered into the ebony locks.

 

“And I you. I feared you gone forever.” Elrond sobbed into the strong shoulder. 

 

“I would have come for you at the docks, but not all have forgiven me and I had hoped perhaps closer kin would have come forward. I am sorry they did not. You have grown into a fine, noble elf. I am so proud of you.”

 

Elrond clung to the oldest son of Fëanor, memories from his childhood flying through his mind. Maedhros and Maglor had been more a father to him than anyone and the half-elf loved them both dearly. “You are my kin,” Elrond finally managed to say. “I would like to stay with you…at least until I get settled.”

 

Maedhros chuckled. “That is what the twins said centuries ago and they are still under foot.”

 

Elrond pulled back to look at his foster-father. “Twins?”

 

“Aye, Amrod and Amros. Both were remade and have come to live in my house,” Maedhros continued, answering Elrond’s unspoken question. “Celegorm and Curufin have been remade as well, but live far from others. Caranthir and my father are still in the Halls; I doubt they will ever be remade.”

 

“I am sorry.”

 

“Do not be, penneth. My father and brother held much pride. The Dark One used it and corrupted them even more. I think it is best they remain where they are. Few would welcome them here anyway. As it is, there are those who wish the rest of us had not been remade. To stay with me might alienate you. Only Fingon’s house welcomes us openly and without reservation.”

 

“You have always been there, even when you left Elros and me. You offered us a chance, an escape from the Oath. In the few years you fostered us I felt more love than I ever had from my own parents. I gladly accept your offer.” Elrond looked up expectantly.

 

Maedhros smiled. “Alright penneth, let us get you settled in and I will have the rest of your things brought from the ship.” As they walked, Maedhros explained a little about life in Valinor. It seemed that things were set up much as they were in Arda. The various princes, lords, and lesser kings had their own realms. Each governed them as they saw fit, although Finwë was still High King of the Noldor. The realms traded and negotiated with each other as in Arda. The only thing different was that here there were no men or dwarves and the Valar and Maiar had their realms.

 

***2 days later***

 

Elrond settled quickly and surprisingly comfortably into Maedhros’ household. He was welcomed with open arms by Maedhros’ wife as well as Amros and Amrod. Nearly the whole of Maedhros’ realm turned out for the welcoming feast the mahogany-haired elf threw. It did not go unnoticed that more closely related elves did not attend, though they had been invited. Gil-galad, Celebrían, and Turgon sent word of other engagements. Not even Elwing came. It really did not surprise Elrond, but it hurt nonetheless. Only Galadriel attended, on the arm of her brother Aegnor, looking rather uncomfortable. The real surprise of the day, however, was that both Celegorm and Curufin arrived. They came early and asked for a moment in private with Elrond. A servant led the three to a small study.

 

“You are a truly noble elf, Elrond. Thank you,” Curufin said. “Maedhros and Maglor should be proud of their role in your life. I am glad they acted as they did. You served Arda and the Noldor well.” A flash of melancholy crossed the older elf’s face when he mentioned the one brother still in Arda. Elrond hoped that perhaps, someday, that would change.

 

“Thank you for the sincere apology,” Elrond said as the three left the small study to join the celebration.

 

“I am sorry that your compassion and love of my brothers has distanced you from your own kin. Perhaps someday they will come around,” Celegorm said quietly.

 

Elrond stopped and looked at the elves beside him. They were dark and beautiful and regal in countenance, yet humbled in by their sincere remorse. Elrond had lived far too long and through too much to look down his nose at their remorse, and anyway, if the Valar saw fit to allow them to be remade, then who was the half-elf to withhold forgiveness? Giving the brothers small pats of encouragement on their backs, Elrond moved toward the feasting hall. The two princes stopped just before the grand double doors. 

“We are not staying, Elrond. Too many look upon us with displeasure. We would not have your celebration marred.” Elrond made to object but Celegorm continued. “Our lands lie to the northwest, far from the others, but you are always welcome there.” Both Noldor princes bowed to Elrond, hand to heart. Elrond returned the gesture.

 

“Hennon le, mellyn,” he replied with a smile. Celegorm and Curufin nodded and returned the smile before hurrying to the front entrance and out into the darkness. Elrond took a breath and entered the great hall to cheers and welcome. He hated being the center of attention, but Maedhros had insisted on the feast and Elrond could not deny his foster father anything.

********

 

Finally alone in his room, Elrond flopped…in a very un-lordly manner…onto his bed. He was exhausted! He had danced with many ellith and ellyn, met elves that he had only heard about in lore, and enjoyed himself, as he had not in centuries. Now in the stillness of his room he thought of everything and everyone he had met. Other than Maedhros’ family, the half-elf like Fingon best. The High prince carried himself with grace and pride, but there was a twinkle of mischief in his grey eyes. He also was Maedhros’ dearest friend. It was good to see the hobbits (who amazed the high elves with their hearty appetites) and Mithrandir again. 

However, Elrond found himself drifting from happiness into melancholy as he remembered that his own kin hardly acknowledged him at the docks and did not attend the feast. He began to wish that his sons had sailed with him, that Glorfindel and Erestor were here. He stood up, quickly wiping an errant tear from his eyes. *Enough* he told himself. The others would come and he had a loving family right now! They say blood is thicker than water? Well, whoever came up with that was wrong. Blood does *not* make a family…love does!


	3. A Lonely Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elrond settles in to live in Valinor but melancholy looms over him. Finally confides in his foster father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks AzarDarkstar for the kind comments! Hope the surprise does not disappoint!  
> ~~~~~~~~~~

Elrond fell into a comfortable routine. He had a suite of rooms in Maedhros’ main house that rivaled his rooms in Imladris. He was asked to be a teacher of all things Arda and found that the elves and elflings of Valinor were quite interested in the world beyond the mists. He spent hours telling the great stories to wide-eyed elflings. He also took a position as a healer and began learning the remedies of Valinor. Some plants were the same, but other remedies he knew were impossible to make, as the plants were indigenous to Arda. He was a quick study and Elrond loved to learn! Often in the late afternoon the former Lord of Imladris could be found on the training grounds, sparring with either Amros or Amrod or his foster father. He spent evenings with his new family or in quiet contemplation with a good book. 

 

On occasion, he took to gazing at the stars. It was the stargazing, late at night, that usually caused him unrest. It was when the house was quiet that his thoughts began to drift to Arda, all that he had left behind, and all that he did not have. He missed his friends, Glorfindel and Erestor. He missed the twins so much it hurt; but they would all come in time. He mourned for his foster son and daughter. He did not know what death held for men, but he hoped that perhaps, in some way, Arwen and Elessar might be together forever. 

 

That thought usually brought him back to the root of his disquiet. He was lonely. His heart desired a partner, his soul a mate. It was not that there were no offers. Elrond was convinced that every eligible ellith (and some not so eligible) had come to call. Unfortunately, they did not seem to understand that, lovely though they may be, his preference lay with males. The Peredhel sighed. ‘Yet another restless night,’ the little voice in his head whispered. 

 

*****

 

“You look tired, penneth,” Maedhros said at breakfast. “Are you not well?”

 

Elrond look up. “I am well, Adar. Sometimes I find it difficult to find rest. My mind keeps turning.”

 

The remade elf smiled sadly. He understood what Elrond was saying. “It will get easier, I assure you. Just remember that your sons will join you when the time is right.”

 

“I know. It’s not just that,” Elrond began but then stopped, looking down to study his breakfast.

 

Maedhros leaned back in his chair. He dismissed the servant from the room so he and Elrond could be alone. “Would you share with me what it is that troubles you?” he asked quietly. The oldest son of Fëanor was an imposing elf in stature, but his heart was gentle and his eyes held a compassion that would ease even the most fearful elf. Elrond now looked up into those green eyes.

 

“It is nothing really, just some foolishness left from my younger days, I guess. Usually it does not bother me,” he began. 

 

“But sometimes it does. So, out with it.”

 

Elrond’s cheeks colored slightly. “It is just that I thought by now, in all my years and travels in Arda that I would have found a mate,” the Noldo rushed through his confession.

 

“No one has captured your heart?” Maedhros was surprised. Elrond, in his mind, was quite a catch. If they did not have the parent-child relationship…and Maedhros was not married, the mahogany haired elf would have courted the Peredhel himself. “I know that Celebrían is not your true mate, but surely there have been others.”

 

“Lovers, comforters, yes,” Elrond said sadly, “but none that called to my soul. Even here, as beautiful as the ellyn of Valinor are, I have yet to find even one that I would even want to share my bed with, let alone my heart.” At that, Elrond buried his face in his hands.

 

“Give it time Elrond; it has only been a month. You will find someone. Finrod is having a begetting celebration in a couple of weeks. My house is invited. Perhaps you will meet someone there.” Maedhros gave a reassuring smile. It was not good for an elf to be lonely; he knew this all too well. It was loneliness that drove him and that cursed oath. When he was remade, the loneliness returned until he laid eyes on his beautiful wife. Then his heart was no longer his; it beat only for her. Maedhros hoped that Elrond would find love as he had. The half-elf deserved it more than anyone else did.

 

Elrond pushed his plate aside and stood. “I think I shall go for a walk this morn. I have no classes and the fresh air will clear my mind.” Maedhros nodded and watched the Peredhel leave.

 

“So he prefers males,” a soft feminine voice said suddenly from behind the former warrior. “Perhaps that is a bit of information that needs to get out.”

 

Maedhros pushed his chair back from the table, allowing his wife to make herself comfortable on his lap. “What would you have me do? Stand on the turret and shout ‘Elrond likes ellyn’?” 

 

His wife giggled. “Of course not. That is what you have a wife for,” she said matter-of-factly before kissing him.

 

“Valar help him,” Maedhros muttered before returning the kiss more passionately.


	4. Where the River Leads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elrond takes a walk to clear his head and quiet his heart. His feet lead him to a mysterious encounter.

Elrond let his feet take them where they would. He loved his foster father and the new family that had so readily welcomed him; he was even beginning to feel at home in this new land, but his heart was still empty. ‘Patience,’ the little voice in his head whispered. He was beginning to hate that little voice. At times, it was far too optimistic! Elrond began to take in his surroundings. He could hear the rush of a river; if he closed his eyes, it sounded like the Bruinen. He walked toward it and was rewarded by a grand sight. A raging, white -water river rumbled through the wilderness. As he followed it, the trees thinned and the river emptied into a large pristine lake. Elrond continued forward, raising his face to the warm sun. He smiled despite himself. The air was sweet, the breeze just enough to refresh oneself while soaking in the warmth. 

As Elrond approached the lakebed, he noticed a figure perched on a large boulder. The figure was hunched over something, quite intent on it, occasionally looking up across the lake. As Elrond moved closer, he made out the delicate movements of a hand sketching. He also noticed the golden strawberry colored hair and closely trimmed beard. At one time, this would have struck the elf lord as odd, but he had learned that many of the ellyn awakened at Cuiviénen had beards, like Círdan. The closer Elrond came, the more taken he was with the ellon. Like most of the ancient ones, he was larger than the elves of the Second and Third Ages. Strong arms, tanned by Anor’s kiss, seemed to flow out of the sleeveless slate grey tunic. Elrond paused to watch the stranger. It amazed the half-elf that so powerful arms, and rather massive hands, held the charcoal so delicately, moving in gentle, graceful strokes over the parchment.

“Come, tell me what you think,” the ellon called out suddenly. Elrond’s startled gray eyes locked with amused dark green ones. “Come, come.”

Elrond moved slowly toward the stunning ellon, pink staining his cheeks. “Forgive me. I did not mean to intrude.”

Rich laughter filled the air. “You did not intrude! This lake belongs to all Ilúvatar’s children. I have finished anyway and would like to have an honest opinion.”

“It is magnificent,” Elrond said, climbing over the rocky shore to stare up at the displayed picture. An earthy, woodsy scent filled his nostrils. The stranger smelled like the woods after a summer rain; Elrond found it intoxicating. Quickly coming back to himself he continued, “The detail is remarkable, especially at the mouth of the river.”

Rich green eyes regarded the Noldo, looking so deep that Elrond began to fidget. “Thank you.” The artist slid off the rock with a smile. Standing so close to Elrond, the half-elf felt dwarfed by the other ellon. The stranger looked down at Elrond and tilted his head slightly as if trying to figure something out. 

Elrond blushed again. “I am a Peredhel,” he stammered, lowering his eyes.

“Ah, I see; such a perfect mix. Quite beautiful.”

Looking up like a bashful elfling, Elrond’s stomach was full of butterflies. He felt an attraction to this stranger, a heat rising that he had not felt in quite some time…desire began to flare.

“Perhaps I will sketch *you* some time,” the ellon said with a wicked gleam in his eye. Suddenly handing Elrond his finished sketch, the stranger strode off with a smile and a wave. “I hope our paths cross again Elrond Eärendilion.”

Before Elrond could reply, the stranger had vanished down a forest path. Carefully rolling the parchment, Elrond began to walk home. He snorted suddenly, shaking his head, as he realized that he did not even know the artist’s name.


	5. The Lure of the Artist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elrond cannot keep the mysterious artist out of his mind. Despite asking, none can tell Elrond who it is although Lindale seems most interested. However Meadhros' wife has her suspicions and takes matters into her own hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and Kodos! Hope you continue to enjoy!
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elrond found himself looking at the sketch often and thinking of its mysterious artist. Although he had returned to the lake several times over the last couple of weeks, he never encountered the stranger again. The Peredhel was disappointed. Something about the beautiful ellon called to him, stirred him. He thought to ask around but was embarrassed to show such interest. He stared at the picture in his hands. ‘Who are you?’ he thought.

 

“What a lovely sketch,” a woman said softly from his open door. Elrond startled. “Forgive me penneth, I did not mean to surprise you.” Elrond looked up at Maedhros’ wife with a sheepish grin. “Did you do this?” she asked entering the room.

 

“No. I came across the artist a few weeks ago by a lake and admired his work. He gave it to me.”

 

“I see.” She pinned Elrond with a probing gaze. “Are you as drawn to the creator as you are to his creation?” 

 

Elrond looked down at the picture, mulling over his answer. Lindalë was extremely perceptive and lying to her would do no good. “Perhaps. I have not been able to push him from my mind.” He glanced up into caring blue eyes. “The problem is that I have no idea who he is.”

 

Lindalë chuckled. “You do not know his name?”

 

“The whole encounter happened so fast. I was so taken in by his features, by his presence that I never thought to ask. The odd thing is that he knew my name, but by the time it all registered, he was gone. I am afraid to ask around; what would people think?”

 

“I see.” The elleth took a seat next to the elf she now looked upon as a son. “Perhaps I can help.” Elrond filled with hope. “If you do not know his name, what can you tell me about him?”

 

“Well, he was tall...” 

 

She raised her eyebrow at the vague description. “Do you mean simply taller than you or taller than most? You must be more specific, muin nín.”

 

“Tall like Adar…Maedhros that is, perhaps even taller and more muscular. His hair was a strawberry gold, his eyes dark jade, and he wore a short trimmed beard.”

 

“I see. Anything else?”

 

Elrond thought for a moment. What else could he tell her? Details…details… “His hands; his hands, like the rest of his body, were powerful. They were not what I would call artist’s hands. He reminded me of a warrior…not an artist. There was mirth in his eyes, yet I would not wish to incur his wrath.” Elrond sighed. “Oh I do not know. All I know is that I have not been able to put him out of my mind. I feel somehow drawn to him.” He looked at his companion with pleading eyes. “Do you know him?”

 

Lindalë thought for a moment before standing. “You have given me quite a description. Let me think on it for a while and see with what I come up. Perhaps I can inquire about him. I will be discreet.”

 

Elrond stood and embraced the elleth. “Thank you,” he whispered. She smiled and left the room. Elrond tucked the picture back in its place and returned to his desk; he had lessons to prepare.

 

****

 

Once in the hall, the slender elleth stopped a servant and gave quiet instructions. The servant dashed off. Moments later, as Lady Lindalë exited the house, a stable hand leading her mount met her.

 

“I have a matter to discuss with an acquaintance. Tell my lord I will return before supper.” She mounted and charged through the gate. 

 

Moving at a swift gallop, the elleth rode through the forest path, along the river and nearly completely around the lake. Slowing to a trot, she approached a beautiful, yet modest, manor. Dismounting and letting her horse roam, she marched up the steps. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the massive oak door. When a servant appeared she spoke boldly, “Take me to your lord.”

 

The servant bowed and ushered the elleth into the parlor.

 

“Please wait here,” he instructed her. “I will tell him you are here.” With a bow, she was left alone.

 

Lindalë quelled the butterflies that threatened to hatch in her stomach. She was not one of the oldest elves in Valinor. She was the daughter of a simple cobbler and came to be a lady only through her marriage to Maedhros. Nonetheless, she was regarded highly by all, a strong elleth with strong principles. Furthermore, when it came to those she loved…a fierce and protective guardian.

 

“Ah, pen dithen. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

 

Maedhros’ wife turned, squared her shoulders and spoke, “I am here on an important matter concerning one of my family, hîr nín…Elrond.”

 

The tall ellon moved to the side bar and poured himself a drink. He offered one to his guest, but she declined. “He told you of our meeting?” Twinkling jade eyes looked at the slight elleth with curiosity. What had Elrond said?


	6. Encouragement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lindale offers Elrond some encouragement although he wonders at her implications. The family prepare for Finrod's begetting celebration.

“Ah, Elrond. A moment if I may,” Lindalë called from a window overlooking the gardens. The Peredhel looked up with a smile and a wave then headed into the house. He found the golden haired elleth in a small sitting room, working on her stitching.

 

He bowed before the lady. “What may I do for you?” Elrond said with a flourish.

 

Lindalë giggled. “It is not what you can do for me, but rather what I have discovered for you.” She gave a coy wink indicating the younger ellon should take a seat. Elrond did as bid. “Now, I told you I would try to find your elusive artist.”

 

“You learned his identity!” Elrond interrupted like an impatient elfling.

 

“Well, not exactly.” She laid a reassuring hand on Elrond’s knee, quickly continuing, “I called on Amarië yesterday. As I was leaving, I passed the training grounds and noticed an ellon that fit your description exactly. He seemed quite at home with Finrod’s guard so I can only assume he is either a member of the Prince’s court or a close friend.”

 

“Forgive me, I do not mean to be ungrateful, but I do not see how that helps me. I still do not know who he is or where to find him.”

 

“Perhaps not, but it means that your mystery ellon will most likely be attending Finrod’s begetting celebration.” She let her words sink in. Elrond looked at her with slowly growing delight. “That is why,” she continued, “I got you this.” She reached beside her chair and picked up a large package. Elrond eyed her as he took the gift. “Go on, open it.” The Peredhel carefully unbound the string. Pulling apart the wrapping, he gasped as he held up a beautiful robe. It was sleeveless, a midnight blue over-robe with a delicate leaf pattern embroidered around the armholes and down the front. It was stunning.

 

“I cannot accept this! It is too much.” Elrond fingered the fine material.

 

“Nonsense! You can and will.” Elrond made to argue but Maedhros’ wife stopped him. “Maedhros and I have no children; I have come to look upon you as my own. Let me spoil you a bit.” Her lips formed a little pout that Elrond knew to be his undoing. Not even Maedhros could deny his lady anything when she turned on the ‘pout’. 

 

Leaning forward, he embraced her. “Thank you…Naneth.” He held her tighter as a little sob hiccupped from her lips. “You have been more a mother to me than anyone and the robe is beautiful.”

 

Lindalë pulled back and wiped at her tears. “Now, try it on,” she encouraged. Elrond obliged and slipped it on, fastening the toggle at his waist. “Aye, you are as handsome as my Maedhros.” Elrond blushed. “Well, off with you. The celebration will begin at sundown and those leggings do not match.”

 

Nearly forgetting himself in his joy, Elrond quickly turned back to the wonderful elleth he now named mother and gave her another hug before dashing from the room. He needed to find the perfect under piece to go with the new over-robe. If Lindalë was right, he would finally be introduced to the elf that haunted his dreams with such passion it was near unbearable. ‘Hope he feels the same,’ the annoying little voice whispered. Elrond growled the voice into silence. If the artist did not share Elrond’s feeling, the half-elf would just have to change the stranger’s mind.


	7. Artist Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Finrod's celebration, Elrond begins to lose hope until his 'mother' gives him a push at leads to the answers he seeks! But what he discovers in more than shocking.

Elrond looked stunning and from the moment he walked into Lord Finrod’s great hall, hopeful suitors showered the Peredhel with attention. The half-elf graciously acknowledged them with detached interest. He was looking for one ellon in particular. As Elrond followed Maedhros and his wife through the crowd to their table, he looked – as casually as possible – about the room. His heart began to feel heavy when no sign of the handsome artist could be found.

“Do not fret, penneth,” Lindalë whispered as she took her seat. “I am sure he will be here. It is still early.” She offered a reassuring smile. Maedhros watched his wife and foster son intently. What was his lovely wife up to?

The dinner was extraordinary, but Elrond tasted little. He made all the correct replies to those who engaged him in conversation. He nodded and chuckled in all the right places. Through all this, his heart sank further. 

Lindalë, though as pleasant as always on the outside began to seethe inside. She thought she had understood the situation, made herself quite clear. He promised that his intentions were honorable and that the Peredhel had captured his heart, so where in the vast void was he? 

Maedhros leaned close to his wife. “You look beautiful tonight, meleth. However, your eyes tell me you are less than pleased. What troubles you?”

Whispered words came to her on the breeze and she relaxed. “Nothing,” she said with a coy smile. “Come, dance with me.” She pulled her husband to his feet before he could object and swept him onto the dance floor.

Elrond felt extremely self-conscious as he moved across the floor. He had had no desire to dance, but when the lady of the house asks, you obey. He could feel the eyes on them as he and Amarië danced. As if sensing his discomfort, the elleth kept conversation light. She did not intend to make the younger one feel uncomfortable, but it was a shame for so handsome an elf to sit in the corner alone. She was certain her love would cut in, switching partners casually, so Elrond could dance with an eligible elleth. Perhaps she should have made her plan known to Finrod? She was surprised, therefore, when she was tapped on the shoulder and Lindalë cut in, leaving Amarië to dance with a confused looking Maedhros.

“It is a lovely night,” Lindalë said casually as she danced Elrond closer to the balcony. “Perhaps a stroll in the gardens will lighten your mood.”

“I apologize. I know I am acting like an elfling. I am trying to keep up pretenses, but I had so hoped…”

Lindalë stopped by the balcony doors. “Then *go take a walk*!” she said more emphatically. “I am sure there is something of interest in the gardens.” Were all males this thick she wondered? 

Elrond cocked his head as her meaning hit him. He smiled, kissed her hand and vanished through the doors. With a little giggle, Lindalë smoothed her dress but, as she turned to make her way back to her seat, was intercepted by Finrod who gracefully moved her across the dance floor towards her husband.

*****

Elrond walked down the steps and entered the gardens. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach and his heart began to race. Lindalë would not have suggested this if she was not certain the mysterious artist was about. The Peredhel was so absorbed that he nearly squeaked when a deep rich voice addressed him.

“Even lovelier than when I first saw you; it is a shame I do not have my sketch pad.”

Elrond looked to his left and gasped. The ellon that had haunted his dreams stood before him in such splendor. Waves of strawberry gold hair hung just past the broad shoulders. Tanned arms flowed out of the sleeveless emerald green robes. A gold belt made of thousands of tiny rings cinched the narrow waist. His beard was neatly trimmed and a circlet rested on his brow. Elrond was rendered speechless.

The artist stepped closer, breathing in the half-elf’s scent. It was as intoxicating as it had been at the lake. He knew without a doubt that this ellon was his soul’s mate. The question was: did Elrond feel it too?  
When the taller ellon moved to stand in front of Elrond, the Peredhel nearly swooned. His body and soul hummed for the magnificent creature. He wanted to run his hands over the rippled muscles; taste the bronze skin…fire erupted in his core. 

Finally finding his voice, Elrond choked out, “I went back to the lake, hoping to find you.”

“I know,” came the soft reply.

“I cannot explain it, but I have not been able to get you from my mind,” Elrond whispered.

The elf smiled and stepped even closer. He reached up and fingered a lock of Elrond’s hair. “Nor I you and I have thought on it greatly.” He brought the ebony lock to his nose; the sweet smell of sandalwood flooded his senses.

“I would like to get to know you better,” Elrond breathed. He threw caution to the wind as his hand, of its own volition, slid up the powerful chest. It came to rest on a swiftly beating heart. “As it is, I do not even know your name.”

“I would like that. However, before I tell you my name, would you grant me one favor?” Elrond looked deep into the jade eyes and saw desire now clouded by apprehension. He nodded for the other to continue. “Would you grant me one kiss? Then I will tell you all you wish to know.” 

Elrond wondered what this beautiful being might have done that would cause such doubt. Whatever it was, Elrond could deal with it…never had he felt like this and he did not doubt that he had finally found the other half of his fëa. He could feel the desire, the tension between them. Time stood still and the physical world melted away as the tall elf leaned in, his hand sliding through the raven colored hair, making sure Elrond would not escape. Elrond tilted his chin up in anticipation. Soft, pliable lips met his and melded together. Elrond smiled into the kiss as the soft beard tickled his face. The kiss was filled with love and promise; both poured all their feelings into that one all too brief kiss. 

At they pulled apart dark jade eyes locked with slate gray. “Tell me what you feel for me.”  
Elrond did not know exactly how to respond but did his best to formulate a coherent, honest answer. “I feel like you are the other half of my soul. I know that sounds illogical as we have just met, but I feel so at peace with you, as if I am where I belong and have no desire to be anywhere else.” Elrond looked down, fearful that his admission would chase the other away. 

Satisfied the Peredhel’s fëa recognized the connection he touched Elrond’s cheek, meeting hesitant eyes, and admitted, “I am called Tulkas Astaldo and I will love you till the end of time.” Elrond’s eyes grew wide but before he could respond, hungry lips met his and strong arms pulled him tight against the broad chest of the Vala.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudo's and the wonderful comments! Hope you enjoy the rest :)  
> ~G


	8. The Pleasure of Soul-Mates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: NC-17 Slash!!  
> Elrond and Tulkus discover love in each other's arms.

“So where is that scoundrel son of mine?” Maedhros teased his wife once they, again, glided across the dance floor. “I will need to speak to him about leaving a lady in the middle of a dance.”

 

Lindalë laughed. “Do not be too hard on him,” she said with a smile. “I sent him away and I do not think we will be seeing him again this night.”

 

Maedhros eyed her suspiciously. “What have you done, elleth?”

 

“I did nothing but encourage a suitor; although,” she paused and looked thoughtful, “I did warn Tulkas that should he hurt Elrond in any way, Ilúvatar himself could not protect him.”

 

Maedhros balked.

 

******

 

They had walked and talked for what seemed like hours. Elrond was so entranced by his companion that he did not even notice they had left Finrod’s gardens until he heard the rush of the river. As he took in his surroundings, he realized that this was where they had first met.

 

“I am embarrassed that I did not recognize you from the start,” the Noldo said sheepishly. “Your stature, your hair…your beard!”

 

Tulkas’ rich laughter filled the night. “When first we met, I held a charcoal in my hand, not a sword. I am sure that alone was enough to dismiss my identity.”

 

“Yet I noticed your hands were those of a warrior,” Elrond protested.

 

The Vala stopped and pulled the smaller elf close. “That is why I hid. I was afraid you would figure out who I was and never give me a fair chance. I knew our souls belonged together the moment I laid eyes on you. I had to figure out a way for you to see it also, without knowing the truth. Elrond, I do love you but I do not want you to come with me because I am a Vala. If you are uncertain or need more time…”

 

Elrond leaned up and hushed the warrior Vala with a kiss filled with love and desire. “While I will admit I do not understand why you would choose a common Peredhel, I have seen enough to know that you cannot control whom the fëar choose. Moreover, I do believe in love at first sight; I have seen it happen. My fëa chooses you and my soul yearns for you, and I want you as I have never desired another!”

 

“Elrond, you are hardly ‘common’ and I do not just refer to your heritage. Stay with me this night and every night here after.” Tulkas kissed Elrond and felt his inner light flare.

 

The soon-to-be-lovers embraced before continuing their walk in comfortable silence, Tulkas leading the ebony haired Peredhel to his home on the far side of the lake. They entered the house unnoticed and soon Elrond found himself in a grand bedroom. Tulkas removed his outer robe and tossed it haphazardly on a chair. Elrond followed suit, although he carefully laid his robe over the back of the chair. 

 

Seeing Tulkas staring, Elrond raised his eyebrow in silent question. The warrior smiled. “I still want to sketch you.”

 

Elrond’s eyebrow went higher. “Right now?”

 

Again, Tulkas’ laughter filled the night; Elrond loved that laugh. “Oh no, not now. There are other things I would like to do first.” 

 

Feigning ignorance and attempting to sound innocent, Elrond asked, “What, pray tell, would they be, hîr nín?”

 

Before he could register what happened, Elrond found himself tossed onto the massive bed. Tulkas moved toward him with a predatory look in his eyes. “I would like to strip you naked, taste every inch of your creamy flesh, tease you till you beg for release and then make love to you until the sun rises.” 

 

Elrond watched as Tulkas approached the bed, pulling his tunic over his head and throwing it aside. The body being revealed was beautiful beyond words and Elrond began to harden. Coming to the edge of the bed, the Vala unlaced his leggings, freeing his own rapidly growing member. In a blink of an eye, Elrond shifted and pounced, enclosing the velvet shaft in his mouth. Caught off guard, Tulkas’ legs almost buckled as moist, wet heat sucked his throbbing flesh; a very talented tongue wrapping itself around and around. Instinctively the Vala buried his hands in the sable hair as Elrond pumped and sucked with growing intensity. Soon Tulkas began to thrust into the willing mouth, crying out in pleasure as Elrond swallowed every drop. Panting softly, Tulkas looked down into storm gray eyes. Elrond smirked and ran his tongue up the softening flesh. He was rewarded with a growl.

 

Kicking off his leggings, Tulkas advanced on the prone Peredhel. Elrond shifted back to the center of the bed, his member twitching with anticipation. He knew Tulkas intended to make good on his plan to drive him crazy, for the gleam in the Vala’s eyes confirmed it. Tulkas removed Elrond’s garments slowly, kissing and licking every inch of flesh as it was uncovered. Large hands splayed over a bare chest, callused fingers grazing sensitive nipples. Elrond gasped.

 

“Hmmm, you like that?” Tulkas teased, brushing a nipple again. Elrond moaned. “Let us see what you think of this.” Hot lips locked onto the rosy nub and a tongue tickled it to a hardened peak. Meanwhile, a hand stole down the plains of a flat stomach, over snug leggings to massage a prominent bulge. Elrond arched into the hand and writhed with want. A wet trail followed the hand and soon teeth nipped at the bulge in the leggings. 

 

“Please,” Elrond panted. 

 

A chuckle was the only response. Tulkas was not done playing with his lover. Oh no, this would be a night neither would forget. Large fingers made quick work of the laces; Elrond soon sighed as his now turgid member sprang free. The sigh turned to a gasp and then a moan as a tongue teased the slit before a hungry mouth devoured the shaft to the hilt. When his shoes and leggings were removed, or where the oil came from, Elrond could not say. To be honest, once his member was swallowed, he could not concentrate on anything. He did not even realize he had been breeched until a finger brushed that magical spot deep inside and nearly catapulted him off the bed. The resulting rumble of laughter surrounding his aching shaft almost brought him to completion but a hand clamped the base tight, robbing him of release. The former lord of Imladris swore in Dwarvish. This only served to encourage his torturer. 

 

Tulkas kept his hand clamped on the base of Elrond’s member while adding a second and third finger to the tight passage; at the same time the Vala continued teasing the slit of Elrond’s member with the tip of his tongue. Little did Elrond realize that his writhing and moaning, begging and swearing aroused Tulkas. The Vala had quickly recovered from his earlier release and now found himself painfully hard again.

 

Bringing himself back to the present, he released Elrond’s member and looked deep into those gray eyes. “I do not take lovers lightly. If we do this, you will be mine, and I yours, for all eternity.”

 

Elrond tried to control the fire in his blood long enough to answer, “I do not share my bed carelessly. I willingly give myself to you for all eternity, asking only that you take no other lover.”

 

“I want none but you.”

 

The two smiled lovingly before Tulkas shifted and pulled his fingers from the warm passage. In less than a heartbeat the Vala slid into the welcoming heat, waited a moment for his lover to adjust, and then set a deliberate pace. Elrond grew impatient and met each thrust, trying to force a faster pace. Tulkas finally gave in; unable to control his desire anymore and together they quickened the rhythm, moving as one to ecstasy. In the early morning hours, two voices cried out in pleasure and two fëar were joined in love forever.


	9. Epilogue:  Welcome Home!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elrond and Tulkas grow in love. The Vala has a special surprise for his mate... and the the house of Maedhors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this last chapter written just the way I wanted it then...my computer crashed! As it was, I could not replicate the words exactly as I had them and it took a long time to re-write. I thinks this ending suffices...  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over a century later…

One year ago to the day, Elrond received the missive telling him that Elessar and Arwen had passed. Tulkas had been there to support him through his grief, as had Maedhros and his wife. Elrond could not help but chuckle at the memory of Lindalë putting an irate Celebrían in her place. Once the silver lady learned that her daughter had given her heart to a son of man, she withdrew all friendship with Elrond, blaming him for their daughter’s choice. 

When they received the letters from Námo, telling of Arwen’s passing, Celebrían arrived at Maedhros’ door --for Elrond was visiting there-- ranting and raving about Elrond’s failures. She went on about how it was his fault Arwen was dead, that he never should have taken in the little brat’s mother and that the twins always had been jealous of their sister and that is why they did not try to stop her. She said Arwen did not have to bind with that man, she could have taken him as a lover…oh the ravings went on and on! 

Tulkas, as was his way, stayed out of the family matter, offering silent support. Lindalë, however, had had enough and promptly let Celebrían know exactly what she thought of the so-called Lady *and* her behavior. Celebrían was so shocked, for none spoke to her in such a way, that she abruptly turned and left in a huff. Galadriel arrived a bit later to offer her condolences and apologies for her daughter’s behavior. Maedhros graciously accepted on Elrond’s behalf, but Lindalë's non-verbals made it quite clear to the daughter of Finarfin that she was not in a forgiving mood and would defend her adopted son with a vengeance.

Elrond sighed and smiled. He would forever miss his little girl, but he understood true love now, first hand. One year ago today his heart was torn as he broke Námo’s seal. Now, today, he held another letter, this one bearing Ulmo’s mark. The Noldo did not need to open it to know what it was about...someone dear to him was arriving from the East. Elrond had learned that Ulmo always sent messages to families when one of their own was coming home. If Elrond received a letter from Ulmo, then it could only mean the twins had finally sailed. But if the twins were coming so soon after their sister’s passing, had they been able to complete the task he had set them all those years ago? They had promised to do their best to complete Elrond’s final quest. He knew it had not been fair to ask it of them, but they were the last hope to make sure all his remaining family came home. Elrond broke the seal and read:

“Elrond Eärendilion of the House of Maedhros,

It is with great joy that I announce the arrival of your sons in the Blessed Realm. Their ship will arrive at the northern cove at sunset. Rejoice and welcome them home.”

Elrond’s heart leapt for joy. He wished Tulkas had returned from whatever Valar business had called him away for the last 6 months so he could share this joy with his mate. There was not time, however, to fret about that. He quickly set about getting rooms ready for the twins. The servants were quick to carry out his requests. From the time Elrond and Tulkas bonded, the Vala’s household welcomed the Peredhel and accepted him as their lord. The cooks were delighted to prepare a number of the twins’ favorite dishes for a late family dinner. Once those preparations were underway, Elrond had a wagon hitched. It would take much of the afternoon to reach the secluded cove. While Elrond understood Maedhros’ reluctance to meet the ships, the Peredhel hoped this time his foster father might make an exception…perhaps Lindalë could persuade him. He really needed to share this with the rest of his family!

As he entered the courtyard, Elrond could make out Maedhros’ rich mahogany hair down at the training fields. Perfect! He could speak with Lindalë first and then both could approach Maedhros. Elrond did not want to go alone; he feared Celebrían would make a scene. She made it quite clear she was as disappointed in the boys as she was in Elrond. ‘Perhaps that is why they are arriving at the northern port instead of the main harbor,’ Elrond thought. 

He could barely contain his excitement as he told Lindalë about the news and made his request. She quickly sent for Maedhros and a short while later the little family made their way to the coast. It had only taken Lindalë a pout and a sweet “please” before the stubborn warrior gave in. Now as Elrond looked about he realized he had come home; not the home he had expected, but a better one than he imagined and now his sons were coming home! 

He felt the absence of Tulkas greatly, but the Vala still had duties and sometimes that meant going away for a spell; he would return soon. Anyway, perhaps it was for the best; Elrond now would be able to tell Elladan and Elrohir about his mate and prepare them for the news. As the wagon approached the shore, a ship could be seen in the distance. Then, just as Ulmo had said, as the sun set a beautiful swan ship pulled to the small dock. There did not seem to be any crew, as an identical pair of dark heads lowered the gangplank. They then rushed down it, over the dock, and into the waiting arms of their father. Elrond wept for joy. Maedhros caught his wife’s arm.

“Let them have a moment. There will be time later.” Lindalë scowled a bit but knew her husband was right. She linked her arm in his and squeezed. She knew how difficult this was for Maedhros. How it hurt to see everyone else’s family coming home and knowing that one, the last one, of his would never sail; Maglor was just too hard on himself.

“We brought you a gift,” Elrohir said as he and his brother moved out of their father’s embrace.

Elrond followed their gaze. There, coming down the gangplank was a willowy elf with ebony hair. The moment Elrond recognized the figure Maedhros cried out and rushed past him. Tears welled in the elder Peredhel’s eyes as he watched the two eldest of Fëanor’s sons embrace after far too many millennia apart.

Elrond pulled his sons to him again. “I am so grateful, my sons…and proud. How did you ever persuade him?”

The twins laughed. “To be honest, we found him quick enough, but held little sway over him,” Elladan said with a smile. “However…” The twins again turned toward the ship. “We had some powerful help.” Tulkas stepped around Maglor, who held the sobbing Maedhros, with a chuckle and headed for his beloved.

“That is quite a mate you found, Ada,” Elladan whispered with a cheeky grin.

Tulkas enveloped Elrond in a tight embrace and kissed him passionately. Feigning disgust at the display, the twins walked to where Lindalë waited.

“Elrohir and Elladan Elrondion at your service, hiril nín,” Elrohir said with a bow.  
Without warning, Lindalë pulled both into a warm embrace. “Welcome home, penneth,” she said kindly. “Welcome home.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos! I hope you continue to enjoy my tales. Thanks for reading,  
> ~G

**Author's Note:**

> Love to hear from readers! :)  
> ~G


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